While I’m prepared to like all of these shows, and certainly willing to give them reasonable opportunities to succeed, once again they remind me that no comic — and certainly no superhero comic — can be adapted to live-action with complete fidelity. Indeed, by taking its cue directly from the comics of the ‘40s and ‘50s, the old Adam West/Burt Ward Batman show was one of the more faithful projects. Likewise, the pilot of the Lynda Carter Wonder Woman series didn’t go too far from Diana’s earliest adventures in All Star Comics #8 and Sensation Comics #1. However, I don’t think that approach would work these days.

In its place seems to be a desire either to justify the comics’ fantastic elements, or to replace them with acceptable substitutes. I’ve said before how the Christopher Reeve Superman movies are a good example of this. While they were pretty good at translating the core characters to the big screen — particularly Clark/Supes — they jettisoned a lot of the lore in the process. This didn’t sit especially well with me at the time, because in the fourth grade I wanted to see Krypto, Luthor’s purple-and-green jumpsuit, Jimmy’s signal watch, and the giant key to the Fortress of Solitude. In hindsight, though, those kinds of things might have been too much to throw at an audience which already had to believe a man could fly. To be blunt, a comics-accurate Fortress might well have looked like the gadget-stuffed North Pole castle from that Mexican Santa Claus movie.

The rest is history. Ever since Bob Ringwood redesigned the Batsuit into a heavy, mostly monochromatic mass of rubber and vinyl, live-action superhero costumes have largely been exercises in justification. After all, if you were Batman, wouldn’t you wear whatever you could to keep from getting gunned down? Never mind that Batman’s entire modus operandi is built around what the Christopher Nolan movies called “theatricality and deception” — i.e., if you dress like a monster, your enemies will be so terrified they won’t be able to shoot straight.

Granted, some of Ringwood’s work might well have been making up for any perceived deficiencies in Michael Keaton’s physique. That wasn’t the case in Batman Returns, when Keaton’s costume ditched the molded muscles in favor of a more explicitly armored appearance. However, by that point the earlier approach had taken hold. John Wesley Shipp’s Flash costume, designed by comics great Dave Stevens for the 1990-91 Flash TV show, also featured molded muscles and looked plenty thick. (Its softer material did allow Shipp to pull off his cowl and hang it off the back of his neck, just like the comics’ Barry Allen could. That was a big plus in my book, even if the TV suit would never shrink to fit inside a ring.) Returns’ armor then gave way to Joel Schumacher’s Bat-nipples, which were then abandoned for Christian Bale’s more practical “spelunking” gear. The current Snyder/Affleck Sad Batman is apparently a combination of the molded-muscles look and the textured Super-suit from Man of Steel. No wonder my favorite Batman movie for several years was 1998’s The Mask of Zorro, whose heroes did pretty well in a few yards of black cloth.

Obviously I’m no fashion policeman, but I suppose “texture” is now the new aesthetic in this field. Nothing can look like Spandex — or at least nothing can look as flimsy or shiny as Spandex. Even the new Star Trek uniforms use little delta-shield patterns. Thus, texture dominates Brandon Routh’s and Henry Cavill’s Superman costumes, Ryan Reynolds’ Green Lantern outfit, and Tobey Maguire’s and Andrew Garfield’s Spider-Man costumes; while Affleck’s Daredevil suit, the X-Men uniforms, most of the Arrow costumes and Grant Gustin’s Flash costume all look somewhat leathery. (Gustin’s suit does look less bulky than Shipp’s, but I’m waiting to hear why it’s more practical for a super-speedster than, ahem, Spandex.)

I say all this because, as much as I realize the folly in judging a work by an isolated image, it’s also possible for filmmakers to overthink a superhero costume. Just as Superman doesn’t need to look like he’s wearing body armor, Batman’s traditional grays-and-blue/blacks also have an artistic function. As Michael Chabon described in his seminal superhero essay “Secret Skin,” the common design elements of cape, boots and briefs recalled both circus performers and Flash Gordon, and prepared the audience to suspend its disbelief. Chabon contended that “the superhero costume is, by definition, an impossible object [which] cannot exist,” and went on to recount all the mystic, metaphysical qualities for which a superhero costume did stand.

Not included in that list, but important nonetheless, is the notion of costume as visual shorthand. By providing contrast, Superman’s blue-and-red elements keep the design interesting, and also help orient readers with regard to movement and perspective. In live-action those elements might be distracting, so they’re not emphasized as much.

Regardless, if we think those elements can be translated from print to screen, naturally we want to see how thorough that translation can be. Arrow’s Deathstroke costume is effective because it captures the spirit, if not the exact details, of George Pérez’s original design. Its overstuffed combination of straps, weapons and armor, topped off with the familiar black-and-orange mask, makes the comics’ ready-for-anything approach into something the show’s slightly insane mercenary would wear. The Arrow’s TV outfit has also gone through some story-specific modifications, most notably trading Season One’s black eye-makeup for Season Two’s domino mask. It’s closer to Mike Grell’s Longbow Hunters redesign than to the original Robin Hood-inspired outfits (with their familiar feathered cap); from some angles it looks top-heavy; and I wish Stephen Amell would cultivate a proper goatee; but it works within the show’s philosophy.

Fortunately, that philosophy seems to have served Arrow pretty well, especially this year. Thanks to the magic of streaming video, I caught up with the series late last year, mostly in anticipation of its Flash spinoff. (Ironically, the only episodes I’ve missed are the two featuring Barry Allen.) Like Smallville before it, Arrow has taken a deep dive into the DC Universe, putting spotlights on everyone from the Huntress and Deadshot to Professor Ivo (whose research-lab ship, I was happy to see, goes back to his first appearance in June 1960’s Brave and the Bold #30) and Nyssa al Ghul. Despite splitting some roles among a couple of characters each (i.e., Thea has Roy’s nickname and history of drug use), it’s been winking at the traditional roles associated with the “big names.” I might have been a late convert to this show, but it was pretty cool to see (Green) Arrow and (Black) Canary busting heads together, and especially to watch the latter wield at least a version of the Canary Cry. This week’s season finale puts a mask on one character, and lets one try on another familiar garment. If Detective Lance ends up dying from something called “Aquarius” — and I’m not saying that happened this week, just throwing it out there — that’ll be another step toward conforming Arrow more closely to the comics.

Indeed, that’s the thing, isn’t it? If we hear there’s going to be a Character X TV show, we have our own particular checklist about what should be in it. (That’s why I’d love to see an Aaron Sorkin-esque “old lefty Ollie” take on Green Arrow.) We want these adaptations to confirm for us that what we saw in the comics could work. Part of that might be our own self-justification — the “this is cool, not just for kids” position — but I think a deeper part of that is a desire to see the transformative component Chabon elucidated so eloquently. As we know, if you take away Tony Stark’s armor, you’re still left with a genius billionaire playboy. Regardless of disguise, Bruce Wayne has still trained his body to physical and mental perfection. Barry Allen in street clothes can still run really, really fast.

However, by giving them their distinctive visual identities, the comics have allowed them — and, by extension, their readers — to transcend their more mundane aspects. Iron Man is technology unchained, the Batman is a nightmare-vision, and the Flash is literally speed personified. Superheroes trade on simple imagery because they symbolize such primal, elemental concepts. Breaking that imagery down, and reconstructing it with practical, tangible components, might be necessary; but risks undermining its effectiveness. In this regard I appreciated how the Flash preview emphasized the fun Barry (and Ollie, for that matter) was having with his powers.

I’ll close this week with one last observation about the Batsuit. Historically, of course, Superman (June 1938) preceded Batman by a little less than a year (May 1939). For most of their shared-universe history, the comics reflected this, whether it was Superboy meeting the young Bruce Wayne or “Batman: Year One” referring to “that fellow in Metropolis.” A while back I realized that the similarities between their costumes could even reflect this history. Why indeed would Bruce design a Bat-costume that contained many of the same elements — cape, boots, briefs, belt, chest symbol — as Superman’s suit? Why not in order to create a smidge more doubt and fear into any crook unlucky enough to get a good look at it?

Put it this way: If you wanted to dress like a giant bat, the movies (especially Nolan’s) make a good case for going all-black and building your suit around body armor. However, if you wanted to scare criminals and there was a guy in Metropolis who wore a big cape-briefs-and-boots ensemble and who could throw cars around, why not remind your own criminal element of him while you’re at it? I like to think that the Batsuit worked that element of “want to see how bulletproof I am?” in conjunction with the Dracula motif.

Now, however, the Man of Steel sequel will probably reverse the comics’ chronology, with an older Batman preceding Superman. That’s sort of appropriate, given that for all practical purposes, the Nolan Batman movies made Man of Steel possible. However, it recasts the characters’ philosophies, even subtly. Superman and Batman are both expressions of limitless possibility, although one stands for power used responsibly and the other embodies the peak of human potential. To Superman’s audience, whose belief has already been suspended pretty considerably, a Batman who follows Superman is pretty easy to take — but a Superman who follows Batman must justify his existence to Batman’s audience.

Thus, introducing an “old” Batman into Man of Steel’s world reinforces the audience’s “practicality first” mode, by reminding them of the Nolanverse’s philosophy. Odds are it’ll inform the looks of the movie’s other super-characters as well. Instead of having a Batman who dresses like Superman because that’s what superheroes dress like, we’re getting a Batman who — for whatever Nolanesque reasons — has a thick suit of armor, because that’s what people expect. I’m still trying to keep an open mind about these things, and I know Ben Affleck doesn’t want his suit to be Movie-Daredevil, Part Deux; but “that’s what people expect” shouldn’t limit a superhero story. These costumes are meant for bigger things.

++++++++++++++++++++++

And now, here’s the Futures’ Index for this week’s issue #2.

Story pages: 20

Number of “Five Years From Now” captions: 1

Percent of the story which takes place “five years from now”: 100%

Percent of last issue’s story which took place “five years from now”: 100%

Number of “Five Years From Now” captions in last issue’s story: 1

Likelihood that the next issue will also begin with a “Five Years From Now” caption: 99.9%

NOTES: After the first couple of issues’ worth of nastiness and death, I appreciated this issue’s slight change of pace. However, the “everyone comes out for a super-funeral” trope is in full effect, and Firestorm’s fight with Arsenal was hardly unexpected. As mentioned in the main post, I’m an old-school Ollie fan, so I liked the notion that “the War” would have driven him closer to his pre-reboot man-of-the-people perspective. I also liked Animal Man’s eulogy (no doubt written by Jeff Lemire), although I couldn’t help but contrast it with Wonder Woman’s “greatest eulogy you never heard” from Identity Crisis. Finally, while either “side” of Firestorm has usually been able to initiate the transformation, traditionally it didn’t require mutual consent — thus, you’d see Ronnie plucking Professor Stein out of a job interview, or Stein would be drunk and Ronnie’d have to deal with it. I want to say Stein was the one whisked naked out of the shower, but it could have been the other way around. Anyway, the entire Firestorm/GA subplot seems to hinge on this detail; otherwise, Jason could have transformed them on his own. I don’t like it when a plot depends on a bit of trivia, and FE is going out of its way to make Ronnie a jerk — which itself isn’t new — but the series is still young.

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Comments

11 Comments

Franky

One of the reasons why I love Arrow is because it has Batman-esque written all over it. The show is literally Batman, just with Green Arrow at the helm…excuse me, I meant “Arrow.”

I’m no Oliver Queen fan. I am willing to admit. Never found the character interesting, so you can imagine a show about him was a surprise to me. But after watching the very first eposodes, I was hooked. And as the season(s) moved along, it became clear to me: “This show takes elements of Batman and combine them into this character I know nothing about. Is freaking genius.” Look at these similarities:

-Arrow has no family, only an “Arrow-family.”(a la, Bat-family)
-Detective Lance is Commissioner Gordon. (Bat-universe)
-Arrow learns from his mistakes, and eventually doesn’t kill(same with Bats).
-Felicity and Diggle are, literally, authoritative figures. They are distinct personalities of Aflfred Pennyworth(Batuniverse)
-Will have a sidekick in Arsenal(Batman and Robin)
-Corruption in the highest places(typical Bats)
-Captures his opponents at night(Batman’s MO)
-And is a billionaire playboy(Bruce Wayne)

The utter similarities made me realize that the writers of the show understood that a character like Oliver Queen can work if they give him the realism that Batman has. That dark, emotional and mental feel made the show into Batman, only with Oliver Queen. Very genius.

Because tell me this: if there was a poll asked by comic book sites about which likely dynamic duo will likely be on live-television, do you think Green Arrow and Red Arrow would be a favorite choice? Not a chance. And that fact alone, solely that fact, is why a character like Oliver Queen should thank Batman’s success. I may not know much about Oliver Queen like I do much about Batman, but even I can’t help but smile that we are going to witness the first live-television dynamic duo teamups since Adam West played as Batman and Burt Ward played as Robin. And that is very awesome. Earned it indeed.

Larry Cruz

Diggle is close to Alfred, but Felicity is far closer to being Barbara Gordon. She’s a computer whiz like The Oracle, and she provides the sunny, unwavering optimism of Batgirl. Meanwhile, Black Canary and The Huntress are sorta splitting the Catwoman duties.

I also want them to bring back Count Vertigo, as he was a very adequate stand-in for Joker. It’s easy, too: perhaps he was getting injected with Mirakuru while he was at that asylum? Could be.

Thank you, Tom. Very keen insight and great history.
I feel that the recent movie adaptations of comics have had an awful effect on the comics themselves. Lost is the cartoony joie-de-vivre that any child can replicate with a few crayons or chalk in primary colors. Nowadays everyone’s a shocktrooper.
I still think the “best” Flash costume has to be Frank Miller’s “DK2″: sneakers, shorts & short sleeves…a runner!
Thanks!
-Sully
@revsully on das Tweets

JokersNuts

Bart Allen and Superboy could probably get added to that list of deaths, no? I remember Bart Allen having that big superhero funeral in an issue of Countdown. Although I don’t blame you if you blocked that whole thing from memory.

Franky – it’s not surprise you see a lot of Batman things in Arrow. Batman was a direct inspiration for the original Green Arrow comics. Ollie even had an arrow car and arrow cave!

Jake Earlewine

I don’t care what they do in the movies. DC still makes movies that are made BY and FOR people who don’t love comic books. Diane Nelson, for example, boasts that she never reads them.

So for me the comic book movies have about as much relevance as other merchandise with super-heroes on it, like clothing, role-playing games, toy dolls, Pez dispensers and bobble-heads. Which is to say, they have no relevance at all.

Don’t care about the movies, but I do care about the comic books. And DC Comics has gone to hell in a hand basket. I pray that some day Paul Levitz or somebody will get hired to make the trip across the river Styx to rescue DC comics from the clutches of Satan.

Wow, I never knew that Dave Stevens had designed the Flash costume worn by John Wesley Shipp. Very interesting. I really liked that outfit. It was an effective compromise between remaining as faithful to the original comic book design as possible while still coming up with something practical that a real person could actually wear without looking ridiculous.

And, yeah, I thought the show itself was a great adaptation of the comic books that stayed pretty true to the source material. I did wish we could have gotten more supervillains, but again you have issues of practicality & budget coming into play. As a kid watching the show I kept hoping Gorilla Grodd would appear, but in hindsight I don’t know if 1990 television special effects could have given us a talking, telepathic ape who was all that convincing!

Ghatanathoah

I am generally very thankful for the current emphasis on practicality that superhero movies and comics have. To me the essence of good fiction is taking an unrealistic premise and then executing it as realistically as possible.

What I hate more than anything is the attitude that because superheroes are such an outlandish concept we don’t need to bother treating them realistically. The opposite is true. If you have one or two outlandish elements in your comic or movie you have to do everything else as realistically as possible.

When I was a kid I took the stories in comics seriously. And the comics I loved best were the ones where I felt the authors took the stories as seriously as I did. I hated it when I detected that feeling of, “Oh, it’s just for kids, we don’t need to treat it with any respect. The kids don’t care, they can’t tell the difference.” They do care and they can tell.

The reason that the Batman TV series looked ridiculous and silly when it faithfully adapted the Batman comics of the 50s and 60s isn’t because superheroes can’t be brought to the screen faithfully. It’s because Batman comics from the 50s and 60s were terrible. The newer Batman movies work because they adapt the better-written Batman comics from the modern era.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the 60s Batman TV series, it works as a hilarious spoof of everything that was terrible about the Silver Age. And a lot of the Silver Age comics are so bad that they’re good. But my favorite superhero stories will always be the ones that work because they take the story seriously, not because they’re mocking it or execute it ineptly.

Sidestep

I always loved the first Keaton Batman outfit. I can’t explain it, maybe it is because it is still relatively simple and more anasthetically pleasing, unlike the Nolan Batsuit that has a lot of extraneous lines and rivets.

John

I don’t know that it matters – movies or comics – there has always an interpretation being made of the characters by the writers, directors, and artists. Over 75 years, both Bats and Supes have been given different looks, and have evolved as characters. Originally, as you recall, Superman couldn’t fly, but jump higher than a building.

Since the first Keaton movie, Bats has been on that DKR’s story path, with the notable exception of the horrible B&R in 97. To deliver audiences beyond us comic geeks, story lines need to be more believable, so that the audience can suspend disbelief. That was one of the frustrating aspects of the final 20 minutes of MOS – characters were put aside for a massive CGI battle. In real life, a Batman without armor would be dead already. Gunned down like his parents.

I haven’t seen AS3 yet, but from what I’ve heard it has made the same mistakes as Spiderman 3, and some of the 90’s Bat flicks – too many bad guys. It’s what makes Loki, or Zod, Bane, or Joker work. A good director can work the character. At the end of the day, a good writer/director is going to put their own stamp on the characters, while having one foot in reality.